<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Lilac Wine by FakePlastikTrees</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354853">Lilac Wine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees'>FakePlastikTrees</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lovecraft Country (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Modern AU, Photographer AU, a little magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:20:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Christina is a photographer, and while shooting Leti Lewis' first Rolling Stone cover, she becomes fascinated by her sister, Ruby. (I suck at summaries. It's a modern day AU)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ruby Baptiste/Christina Braithwhite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>229</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ya'll, I don't know what I just wrote. I don't fully know where this is going, but it's here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re late.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina puts her cigarette out on the lightpost she’d been leaning on, briefly skimming the missing cat poster taped to it. She recites a simple ‘lost &amp; found” incantation and smiles as the cat in the picture appears from behind a pile of forgotten furniture on the sidewalk. He walks up to her meowing, and she pulls out her phone to send a quick text to the number on the sign  before adjusting her backpack over her leather clad shoulder and turning to greet William. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she says as if it should be enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He holds the door open for her and she breezes right past him, into the old building, Thomas the cat hot on her trail. She’s been here before. A lot of these buildings near the fashion district are often rented as art spaces; studios, or art show venues. On more than one occasion, she’s had to use a binding spell when some asshole or another has tried to steal her camera equipment, so she’s grateful for daylight for once, and the shops selling knock-off bags, clothing and perfumes. It’s ten in the morning and already the streets are filled with people despite the sporadic rain that hasn’t stopped all week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She knocks on the glas door to the security room and when the guard opens the door, she ushers the cat inside before pulling some cash from her back pocket to hand him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s coming to pick this guy up soon. Do you mind keeping him here so he doesn't’ run off again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need an assistant,” William says, holding the elevator door open for her, and then punching their floor in when she joins him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need a drink,” she counters, smiling when he snorts. “I was up late last night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That brunette I left you with at the bar?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The bartender. That redhead.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head at that, looks at his watch as he mumbles, mostly to himself, “Fuck, you’re late.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William’s used to her bullshit by now. And truly, she’s grateful for him taking on the role of her manager/publicist/handler despite having first-hand experience with her nonsense, and she should make things easier for him. Lord knows he takes enough for her, but she also pays him a lot of money, so she doesn’t feel all that guilty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So?” She presses, “What’s she like?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s a young singer on the rise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Insufferable, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve had worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she pissed?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not so much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The manager on the other hand…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How bad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s going to tear you a new one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She?” Christina smirks, removing her sunglasses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” he warns.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? You know I’m a sucker for a demanding woman.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a short walk through a cold hallway once they arrive at the 17th floor. Muffled music that grows louder as they go tells Christina everything is rolling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks. She could use an early night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, the moment they push through the heavy door, Leti Lewis is messing around with the makeup and hair people, jumping out of her seat the moment Christina walks in. She’s fully done up, dressed in an outrageously expensive outfit that could have been found in a thrift store for way less, but it’s all about aesthetic, and 90’s retro is Leti Lewis’ look. The Margot Tenenbaum look suits her though, Christina will admit. It’ll make for some interesting photographs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leti spots her from a distance and immediately rushes to greet her, holding Christina’s hand in both of hers when she shakes it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christina Braithwhite, I am a huge fan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likewise,” Christina says, meeting Leti’s notoriously alluring smile with one of her own. “We’re gonna have fun.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m very excited,” Leti says leaning in, then bounces off to have her makeup touched up while Christina gets settled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets familiar with the setup quickly enough. She’s worked with the assistants they’ve sent her before and she doesn’t have to go into too much detail when asking for adjustments, William is hanging back, close by in case she needs him, but not so close that he’s hovering. She shrugs off her leather jacket and picks up her camera, and preferred lens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just when she’s satisfied her battery is full and her memory card empty, she looks up to see a hurricane aimed at her in the form of a gorgeous woman in a blue floral print dress and blue headwrap, phone in hand, all fury in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice of you to show up,” she snaps. “We’ve been waiting an hour.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m sorry, I--” Christina stops, distracted for a moment. “I’m sorry. Who are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman looks her up and down and then straightens her shoulders. “I’m Ruby Baptiste. I’m Leti’s manager.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Of course,” she holds her hand out, but Ruby isn’t interested and so Christina pulls it back, using it instead to hold her camera up against her chest. “Again. I apologize. It won’t interfere with the cover, I assure you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know it won’t,” Ruby replies curtly. “I’m assuming you’re ready to go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Giving her another cold onceover when Christina nods, Ruby turns on her heel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina watches her go, because it’s a great sight, and she feels...her heart is racing. Even she’s not so jaded as to not understand when she’s attracted to a woman, but this is different. She only turns away when Ruby joins Leti at the makeup chair. She looks back, where William’s been watching, hiding a smile behind his hand and she lets out a laugh before giving him a look that expresses just how much she enjoyed that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William just shakes his head because he already knows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her shoulders back and cranes her neck before asking a nearby assistant for a Red Bull, and looks over at Leti.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Lewis!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s undeniable that Leti Lewis can command a stage, or any room for that matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s got charisma shooting out of her hair, and she’s got everyone’s attention from beginning of the shoot til the very end, but it’s the manager that Christina can’t keep her eyes off when she can spare a second. Ruby. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>steals</span>
  </em>
  <span> her attention the moment she appears in her peripheral, and for the first time in her career, she finds herself distracted, struggling to keep focused when she can feel her standing in the back, watching them work. While Leti Lewis demands her attention, dancing around to a playlist her team put together for her, it’s Ruby who has it, and it shakes Christina’s usual confidence just enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can feel her all too well when they’re all standing around the contact sheets while Leti makes a call to her boyfriend in another room. She can feel her from across the table, and Christina’s hand shakes a little at Ruby’s focused attention on her while she crosses out bad shots and circles the good ones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good one,” says William, pointing at one of Leti looking sultrily at the camera. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Christina shakes her head. “Her mouth is open. It’s too suggestive. In a male-serving kind of way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulls a sheet from under the stack, where there is a selection of varying shots where Leti looks strong, and sexy. “It’s between these, I think.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks up at Ruby, who’s looking on. She doesn’t look displeased, so Christina takes that as a good sign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby doesn’t miss a beat replying, “I’ve got to wait for you and now I gotta do your job for you too?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But there’s less of an edge to her tone, and more of a playfulness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods once. “I prefer those as well. She looks chic. In charge. You think Rolling Stone will vibe with that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina smiles. “I’ve shot eight covers for them. They’ll take what I give them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Christina didn’t know any better, she’d say Ruby appears flirtatious, but she does know better, and this is still work, and she’s a professional, so she keeps that to herself for now. She can practically hear William roll his eyes beside her though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William is on the phone immediately, and while assistants run around pulling the set apart, Christina packs her equipment and pretends she’s not watching Ruby, who is sitting on a couch at the far end of the room, typing away on her phone. She’s walking to her before she knows what she’s doing, craving the nearness of her in a strangely urgent way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re good, you know,” Ruby says without looking up from her phone. She finishes whatever she’s typing and then looks up. “But you know that, right?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina shrugs and brushes her hair back. “I do okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, what are your dinner plans looking like? I’m thinking of grabbing a bite myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, we have a dinner meeting in,” Ruby checks the time on her phone. “A half hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Christina nods as Ruby gets to her feet. “Well, if you feel like a nightcap or something, I know all the good spots.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby smiles. An actual smile that makes Christina a little weak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have your number.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina watches her leave, and just about stops breathing when Ruby looks back from a few feet away and gives a little wave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she says, and exhales slowly when Ruby’s gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She really needs dinner now, and then, alcohol. For sure, alcohol. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>******</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s raining again by the time she finally makes it outside. It’s that small pocket of weather Los Angeles gets once a year that turns Angelenos into bumbling idiots on the road, and Christina is not in the mood for whatever mess she’ll find on the 10 freeway, so she locates a nearby hotdog stand before making her way to Echo Park, avoiding the highway as best she can. She goes home. Not because the rain has put her off to going out, but because she can’t stop thinking about Ruby Baptiste. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quick shower, she finds herself in a deep internet search. Aside from a few blurbs, the only things Christina scopes out are paparazzi pictures of Ruby exiting various events and restaurants with Leti Lewis. There’s a recent bunch of them shopping on Rodeo Drive, and that’s how she finds out they’re sisters. A not-so-quick scroll through Leti’s instagram posts treats Christina to a few candid shots of Ruby eating ice cream, Ruby cooking, Ruby in a limo with her sister, wearing a low cut top that makes Christina’s mouth dry. She has no online presence otherwise, and while Christina herself doesn’t make it a habit of publicly documenting her life, it’s grating that she can’t find more on Ruby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs, closes Instagram, and looks at the time. She’s made it to 8:30, and the rain has stopped for the night it seems, so she grabs her leather jacket and decides she’ll walk to the nearest bar. Sometimes, it pays off to live so close off of Sunset, where she can take a stroll and take her pick of a place to get a drink or a meal, sometimes even a comedy show in the back room of some cafe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a quaint little lounge bar with good wine and live music that lures her in eventually. They have a patio in the back that is mostly empty, save for a couple of smokers chatting nearby, which is where Christina’s been sitting for the past twenty minutes or so, sipping on a mostly forgotten glass of wine, when she hears the melodic sounds of the piano start the familiar intro to Aretha Franklin’s “Ain’t No Way”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina smiles and leans back, taking one last drag of her cigarette before putting it out and picking up her glass again. She stops short of taking a sip at the sound of the voice that sings the opening lines though. She exhales a little laugh at the goosebumps on her arms. Whoever it is, they’re good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a beautiful, powerful and vulnerable voice. She’s not the only one affected apparently, because the other two smokers have stopped in mid conversation to listen for a moment before heading inside to get a look at the singer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina sits it out a moment longer however, allowing the bridge to fill her with emotion she hasn’t had nearly enough alcohol to blame it on. She gets to her feet and carries her glass inside, squeezing past a group of captive listeners crowding the backdoor, and when she gets within viewing distance, towards the second half of the song, she is pleasantly surprised to be met with the face that’s been taking up most of her thinking today. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby Baptiste, in all her glory, is belting her way toward the end, accompanied by the lounge’s usual piano player, ending with a bashful laugh as the room erupts in applause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shares a laugh with the piano player and then humbly steps off the stage area, returning to her group and sending a glare at someone Christina presumes is to thank for the performance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina leans over the bar for the bartender’s attention after knocking back her wine. “Can I get another, and please send Ms. Baptiste and her table a round of whatever they’re having. On my tab.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bartender nods, “Sure thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her drink arrives momentarily, and so do Ruby’s and her party’s. Christina waits for her to find her in the crowd from across the room to raise her glass in a toast, which Ruby returns before excusing herself from the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina watches her walk toward her and secretly chastises herself for the way her heart continues to race. This has definitely not happened in a while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Ruby says upon reaching her, clicking her glass to Christina’s. “Thank you for the drink.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My pleasure,” she replies, eyes stealing a glance at Ruby’s painted lips. “That was some performance.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ruby ducks her head, embarrassed, and drinks, shrugging it off. “Sammy makes me sing for my drinks every time I’m here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sammy, the owner?” Christina asks. “How do you know Sammy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we go way back. Same hometown. And his husband, Montrose, is Leti’s father in law.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your uh--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no,” Ruby motions dismissively at her table, stepping in closer to lean against the bar. “Just a bunch of suits. We’re mostly done, but they can’t take a hint. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to stand here, with my old friend that I haven’t seen in years, and catch up, because that’s what I told them I was doing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiles cheekily and Christina...well, Christina is having trouble not letting her eyes wander lower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind at all,” she tells her. “How are you? It’s been so long.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. You know. Dodging racism and sexism in a male dominated industry, as one does. Jumping over obstacles all over the fucking place like show poodle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s little buzzed already, Christina can tell. She’s loose and relaxed, and maybe even flirting with her a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina orders them shots of bourbon and when Ruby gives a questioning look, Christina simply says, “To old friends.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby bites her bottom lip as she raises her glass, and Christina can’t help but blatantly stare now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So uh,” Christina starts after they’ve had their shot, pulling herself back into moderately functional mode. “How is it that you’ve got a voice like that and I’d never heard of you? How did you end up managing your sister’s music career?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Ruby sighs. “We used to sing together. Back in the day. Mostly at church, but we tried doing it together for a little while and, well, you’ve seen Leti. She’s a scene stealer–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A new album begins to play on the old record player behind the bar, by law,  the only source of music when there isn’t an act on stage, and they step a little closer together to better hear themselves. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There was no daddy in the picture and Leti was mostly on me, so, anyway, we got an offer we couldn’t afford to say no to. They wanted Leti, so I became her manager and we got out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby shrugs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The rest, as they say, is history.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should record an album,” Christina says, and Ruby laughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The music industry...is a beast you constantly have to feed, and it only eats human souls.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s said in jest, but the sincerity in her eyes makes Christina angry on her behalf. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I think I’m good staying out of that side of it. I’d rather sing at Sammy’s and other little bars when I’ve got an itch to scratch, keep my soul intact.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should quit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you should quit and tour jazz clubs all over. I mean, what good is keeping your soul if you’re not doing what you love? For a tiny taste once in a while–that’s death.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby smiles, no unkindly, and replies, “It’s easy for white people to say shit like that when financial security isn’t the one thing that grants them a tiny bit of leverage in this fucking country. I got lucky. I found leverage, and even then I’m limited. I’m paid less than people just starting out and I have to work twice as hard for half of the respect. If Leti weren’t my sister and if we hadn’t been smart about working up a tight contract, I would have been kicked to the curb a long time ago, so don’t tell me how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feed my soul</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina listens intently, allowing Ruby’s words to sit between them a moment before speaking again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should still quit your job.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Ruby laughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying,” Christina replies, gaze unwavering whe Ruby meets her eyes. She isn’t scandalized, or insulted. In fact she seems impressed by Christina’s candor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know all about you, you know,” Ruby says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What does that mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a player. A girl for every night of the week and whatnot. You looking at me like that, buying me drinks. I know what you’re doing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would have bought you dinner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can get my own dinner,” Ruby sasses, eyes taking her in from head to toe as she signals for the bartender’s attention. “Two more please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their eyes meet, and Christina holds Ruby’s gaze right up until their shots arrive. They drink and then Ruby leans in, close enough that Christina can smell her perfume. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got swagger for a skinny white girl, I’ll give you that,” Ruby tells her as Christina blatantly looks down her dress. “But it ain’t gonna happen.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes meet brown ones in a wordless challenge neither is winning, or perhaps they both are. It doesn’t matter. Either way, Christina has a feeling she’d benefit from the outcome no matter what. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>**********************</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They stumble through Christina’s front door 20 minutes later. She pins Ruby to it the moment it shuts, lips on her lips, on her neck, hands roaming greedily over hips and waist, palming over Ruby’s breasts when their lips meet again in a sloppy, wet kiss, thumbing her nipples through her dress. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina’s head is swimming, clouded by lust, but she pauses a moment, not forgetting her manners. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever–?” She pants, searching Ruby’s eyes for confirmation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets a breathless chuckle in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re adorable,” Ruby husks and pulls Christina’s lips back onto hers, hand on the back of her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s tongue tastes of bourbon, and the little sighs she lets out when Christina kisses her neck taste like heaven. They make it to the couch, where Ruby immediately straddles Christina’s lap shortly after kicking off her shoes and tugging off her underwear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the sexiest thing Christina has ever seen, watching her hike up the long skirt of her dress before she mounts her lap, and she tells her that before kissing her again, hands gliding over the globes of Ruby’s ass to pull her tightly against her. When Ruby grinds down against her, Christina groans and all but rips her dress down, so she can mouth at the swell of her breasts as she reaches around to unclasp Ruby’s lacy black bra. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby cradles Christina’s head as the blonde takes a pebbled nipple into her mouth, neck arched and moaning, hips grinding down slowly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your tits are magnificent,” Christina tells Ruby before kissing her lips again, swallowing Ruby’s breathless chuckle, and then the gasp that follows after her hands have slid up and between her thighs to tease her slit with her middle finger before slipping it inside, slowly and back out again, and in until Ruby’s broken the kiss with a moan, keeping their foreheads together and her hand on the back of Christina’s neck as she spreads her legs a little wider. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not the most practical of positions, and Christina’s movements are limited with her hand trapped between them, but she can’t keep her eyes off Ruby, the way she bites her lip, and how her body trembles a little as she grinds down against her hand, her tits bouncing against her chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina fucks Ruby like this for a few moments, slowly coaxing the wetness out to work her clit until Ruby’s keening, angling for more, until Christina herself feel as though she might burst. She flips Ruby onto the couch and with some maneuvering gets her laying on her back, legs spread and moaning with three fingers deep inside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s hand finds the armrest, above her head,  which she grips tightly as Christina alternates between sucking her nipples and grazing her teeth against them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” she groans, arching her neck. “That’s so good.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina is soaked, she knows it. She can feel it. The sensation of Ruby’s wet vice around her fingers is intoxicating to say the least. She looms over her, hand gripping the armrest right beside Ruby’s as she watches her face reflect utter ecstasy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harder,” Ruby pants, her eyes fluttering open to meet Christina’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She cries out when Christina obliges, smiling breathlessly up at her despite the tiny moans that are growing louder as Christina fucks her harder, faster, just as desperate to see Ruby lose herself completely as Ruby is to get there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Ruby comes, she goes completely still before succumbing to a series of tiny quakes that leave her gasping and clutching at Christina, riding the tiny shocks of pleasure as they peak at one second unexpected wave that rocks her body and makes her moan gutturally as she comes a second time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s panting afterwards, hips stuttering with Christina’s fingers still inside her, and Christina can’t stop staring. Her long blonde hair is a curtain around both their faces and she smiles when Ruby finally opens her eyes again to look up at her, breathless and smiling herself, shivering a little at the sporadic pulsing of her core around Christina’s digits. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina waits until she’s kissing her again to draw her hand out, bracing the armrest with both hands as she positions herself between Ruby’s thighs. It’s languid and easy until it isn’t. Until Ruby’s hands begin to do their own exploring underneath Christina’s shirt, raking her nails down her back until she’s squirming against her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina is distracted enough that she allows Ruby to sit up, pushing her to kneel between her legs so she can pull her shirt clean off. Christina expects her ask about the mark on her abdomen and then get immediately weirded out, but Ruby’s eyes focus upon the Mark of Cain just long enough for her fingers to trace it before she leans forward and kisses her stomach while she undoes Christina’s jeans and then swiftly pushes her hand inside them, past her underwear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” she breathes, cheeky as hell. “How long have you been sitting in this? You’re soaked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes drifting shut, Christina replies, “All day practically.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby swipes a deft finger around Christina’s clit, watching her intently as she does so, slowly, over and over until Christina is breathing heavily again and biting her lip. She looks down at Ruby then, and she looks like an angel. A vengeful angel looking to seriously torture her, and Christina wants her to. She’s so wet for her that it’s painful. Any minute now, it’ll happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you want me to do with this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby slips a deft finger inside Christina then, just like that, without warning, and anchors her hand against Christina’s dripping pussy as she uses her thumb to continue to stimulate her clit, making her legs shake a little. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you want,” she manages between labored breaths. “Whatever you want just let me come.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright then,” Ruby calmly tells her. “Come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just like that, Christina does. It’s sharp and intense, and almost painful, and fucking perfect. She lets the shock of it shove her over the edge, lets her consume her until her body is so unreliable she has to grab the backrest for balance as Ruby continues, drawing it out as long as possible, until Christina shoves her hand away before collapsing back against the opposite end of the couch, her body like jelly, chest heaving as she covers her face with her hand, her head spinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” she groans, and takes a peek with one eye when she feels the couch shift. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s securing her dress back into place and for a second Christina wants to ask her where she’s going. But that’s too desperate, so she settles for watching her, enjoying the view while she has it, and when Ruby’s dressed again, she asks, “Bathroom?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Over there,” Christina points to a hallway. “First door on the right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be right back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” replies Christina softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Ruby’s gone, Christina stares up at the ceiling, her mind reeling, her body still very much recovering, the mark on her stomach pulsating a little. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> definitely new, though she has no idea what it means. After a moment of catching up with her thoughts, she pushes herself up to stand, pushing both her jeans and underwear off in favor of just her shirt, which she retrieves from the couch. It falls down to mid thigh when it’s not tucked in and it’s a lot more comfortable than the alternative at the moment. Plus, she doesn’t want to risk running into her bedroom for fresh clothing only to return to an empty house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When did she get this needy? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She fills two glasses with water in the kitchen and returns sipping hers just as Ruby comes back. There’s none of the usual awkwardness that often comes from hookups. No bashful small talk now that the alcohol has worn off. There’s just knowing glances as Christina hands Ruby water, a quick “thank you”, and the ardent need to kiss her again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, where are you staying while you’re here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Some rental in Hancock Park.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fancy,” notes Christina as she watches Ruby briefly check her phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It’s a nice house. A big, over the top, practically empty, probably haunted house.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually dreading going back there, the mattress sucks, unsurprisingly.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Christina starts. “Why don’t you...stay here tonight? I mean it’s 4 in the morning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby stares at her through slitted eyes. “Really?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, come on. I’ll make you some good coffee in the morning. And I have a killer mattress. You’ll sleep like a baby. Or not sleep. Whatever.” She leans forward then, giving a salacious smirk. “Blackout curtains.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You had me at ‘good coffee’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They wash up for bed separately, Christina being careful to give Ruby the space to feel comfortable, and the entire time, she feels the need to disclose everything she’s been careful to keep to herself her entire life. Something inside her wants Ruby to know about magic, about spells and the power that comes with that knowledge. She wants her to have the security of it. She feels a confession bubbling in her throat, threatening to come out any moment, and so that moment comes as soon as Ruby joins her in bed, wearing one of Christina’s old tees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like you,” she says when Ruby catches her staring. “Is that weird to say?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Ruby replies honestly. “I like you, too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sit with that. With the confession neither expected before today, and with the peculiar connection they’ve found in each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to show you something,” Christina adds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turns where she’s sitting against the headboard so she’s able to look at Ruby when she says the words.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Ruby says wearily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you like magic?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby snorts, “Like ‘pick a card any card’?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, why not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, what if I told you it's real? What if I told you that you could do whatever the fuck you want, sing wherever you want, or not. What if I could give you true, unmitigated freedom?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Considering you spent a great deal of time talking about my soul tonight, I’d say you are the devil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At Christina’s silence, Ruby sobers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Fine. I’m listening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina recites her summons quietly, and waits for the butterflies to appear through the window. She waits and watches Ruby go from surprise, to fear, to fascination as the ceiling is filled with them, all different colors and sizes. Christina’s thundering heartbeat only settles once Ruby’s smiling, hiding a laugh behind her hand as she watches them all flutter their wings around the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you do that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can show you,” Christina tells her, and then hesitantly asks, “Do you want me to show you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby looks at her, their eyes meeting in the dark and Christina holds her breath for what feels like an eternity before Rubby nods her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Six Day Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ruby learns about Christina's upbringing, and Christina learns of some troubling news.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If anyone's curious, chapter title comes from the track of the same name by Lubomyr Melnyk.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Christina Braithwhite learned about death and grief at the tender age of eight. Her mother killed herself, and the fact was never sugar coated for her. It was simply a thing that happened, and when she asked, hoping for the kinds of answers reserved for kids her age, about heaven and angels, and god, the clearcut response her father always gave her was that Clarissa was simply dead. She didn’t understand what that meant exactly, not in the moment. She only knew that her mother was not coming back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mother is dead,” was how Samuel had broken it to her, his tone even, and matter of fact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina didn’t ask him to elaborate, one just didn’t do that. She was taught never to ask Daddy why, and she didn’t then. It wasn’t until the morning, when she didn’t see her mother at breakfast that it hit her, and she cried in nanny Mary’s arms until the grief tired her to sleep sometime in the afternoon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mary helped her dress for the funeral, and held her hand as they watched men lower her mother into the ground. Her father, whose hand she could feel on her shoulder, squeezed when the recognition of her mother’s final resting place dawned on the eight year old and her body jerked on impulse toward the open grave. When she looked up at him, there was no warmth, or attempt at reassurance, only a cold, hard stare that warned her not to make a scene, so she inched closer to Mary’s side and buried her face in her skirt, and then into her shoulder when she was picked up. Mary held her in her arms the remainder of that terrible day, sitting at her bedside as she cried, and later as she slept. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The following morning, Christina awoke to the sound of Mary running a bath for her in the bathroom, and a cloud of white butterflies, her mother’s favorite, dancing around her room. Christina was convinced they were a sign from her mother, her way of comforting her, of telling her she’d be with her always as long as she had magic, and just like that, the intolerable pain she had felt was soothed away, carried off on the wings of the butterflies as they gradually filtered out through her bedroom window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Magic was their little secret, Christina’s and Clarissa’s. Christina had been taught, since she was a baby, how to tune into the power of nature and the elements, that she could do anything, have anything, if she knew how to tune into the right wavelengths, and if she kept practicing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not long after Clarissa’s death, Christina was sent off to boarding school. Saying goodbye to Mary was tearful and painful, but part of her wanted to see something other than the house that no longer radiated her mother’s warmth, only the cold disinterest in her father’s presence. She ached for human connection, her bones longed for more; more knowledge, more magic, more more more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She met William on their first day and instantly became inseparable. They were from similar backgrounds, and they’d learn eventually that their parents knew each other. It was from William, in fact, that Christina learned that summoning butterflies, and making plants sprout at her will, and her spells for making things appear and disappear were, as William put it, “For babies”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William taught her about The Order, a group of sorts composed of men who dedicated their lives to studying and monopolizing the most ancient forms of magic and its teachings. A group of white men whose interest in yielding such power was inspired by the most banal, cliche, boring aspirations related to greed, all kinds of greed. That Christina’s father forbade her from even inquiring about The Order only managed to persuade her to be more diligent about her learning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was hungry for it. A voracious student was Christina. Every single thing William got to learn outside of normal academics, Christina would squeeze out of him, making him retell every lesson in vivid detail, in effect making him a superior student than he might have been without her natural desire to learn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At first, Christina thought if she could only surprise her father with how she’d picked up on her secondhand lessons, he would love her. He would take her under his wing and change things, allow her into The Order and be proud of her, but that would not be the case. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Christina and William were both sixteen, she fell in love with Gabby, and William fell madly in lust with Gabby’s brother Andrew. During a double date to the Winter formal, in an attempt to impress their dates, a failed spell meant to light the sky in color instead set a yet to be unloaded box of pyrotechnics on fire, causing a half a million dollars worth of damage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina’s father wasn’t happy about it, and warned her to stay away from magic or else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Christina turned 18, she picked up a camera, packed her bags and spent most of the following five years gallivanting around Europe and Asia, documenting every thing of beauty until someone noticed her talent and pretty soon, she was being paid for it. Magic never stopped being a part of her life, but it definitely took a backseat. It was years before she felt anything that made her heart beat faster, the way those first spells on her own made her feel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Ruby that made her feel that, and Christina tells her just as much as they talk through their first night together. She doesn’t tell her about the women that filled all those sleepless nights, or the drugs–that’s public knowledge anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby, to her credit, doesn't seem too hung up on the drugs or the women. Or the magic for that matter. She’s more concerned with Christina’s pain and the loss of her mother, the absence of her father, who could have nurtured her natural talents and instead chose to ignore them. She voices her admiration for Christina’s resilience, and in turn shares more of her own past, and a similar case of losing her father, and later her mother. When Christina tells her she’s amazing, Ruby kisses her, and they make love well into morning hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’ve been sleeping for a short while when Christina first registers Ruby beside her. She’s still half asleep but the moment her consciousness returns, she’s consumed and her senses are overwhelmed. Ruby’s in her arms, in her thoughts, her scent in her nose–Christina breathes her in, stretching her body behind her and wraps her arm tighter around her, pulling her closer so she can nuzzle the back of her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby scoots into Christina, and this prompts her to press a kiss to Ruby’s nape, and another as her hand slips under the shirt that’s ridden up past her hip already. Her fingers skim Ruby’s tummy, and slide slowly higher as they both gradually wake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Christina mumbles against warm skin, cupping Ruby’s breast, just for the comfort of it before splaying her hand over her heart as Ruby turns slowly to lie on her back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Propping her head on her free hand, Christina watches Ruby stretch luxuriously before turning to smile sleepily at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she says before stifling a yawn behind her hand. Her eye catches something behind Christina and her eyes widen. “Are you serious? That’s your view?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina looks back briefly at the view of Echo park Lake from her window. “Yeah. The whole reason I bought this house is that view.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s beautiful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is the superior view, I think,” she replies, gesturing toward Ruby. “But thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Ruby laughs and rolls her eyes. “That was really cheesy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina chuckles, enjoying the way her tee shirt clings to Ruby’s breasts, her nipples poking against the fabric. Unknowingly, she licks her lips and inhales deeply before asking, “Would you like some breakfast?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You talking to me or my tits?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina meets Ruby’s gaze and smiles, shrugging guiltily. “Can’t it be both?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could stay,” Ruby says, reaching over the nightstand for her phone to look at the time and the bunch of unread messages.”Yeah, I should get going. I have a lunch meeting with Leti and the label.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina nods and begins to walk her fingers across Ruby’s chest, down her arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coffee then? Maybe a shower quickie?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Ruby doesn’t say no and instead places her phone back on the nightstand, Christina begins to slowly kiss her way down Ruby’s body, pushing the comforter away to position herself between her legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This doesn't look like the shower to me,” Ruby notes, her tone breathy as she squirms a little and her legs spread a little wider. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina smiles before her head disappears between Ruby’s thighs, and the next thing she hears is a quiet “fuck” as she makes Ruby her breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***********</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god,” Ruby groans, holding her hand up against the offending sunlight as they step out of Christina’s house. “It was just raining last night, why is the sun here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina comes up behind her, having locked the front door and gives her hip a squeeze as she kisses her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re quirky like that,” she says and proceeds to lead the way toward the carport off to the left side of the house. “Car’s over here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quirky’s one way to put it -- nice ride.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina holds the passenger door to the black Mustang and winks at her when she adds, “It’s a ‘68. Restored it myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why am I not surprised?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina drives them through Echo Park and Silver Lake, through small streets and other shortcuts only a seasoned Angeleno would think to take until they reach the tree lined streets of Hancock Park. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They pull up to the rental; some extravagant looking thing with an immaculate lawn and a grand entrance Ruby would have dreamed of owning once upon a time. Now, it just seems excessive. Now she can tell the difference between classy and tacky, between quality and rental staging. She looks over at Christina and now is when the awkwardness usually sets in, when it should have set in earlier, last night even, which is when Ruby should have really left. But they’ve been plowing through boundaries since the moment they met and so the awkwardness never comes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the ride,” says Ruby, scooting up close enough for her chest to meet Christina’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They kiss once, a long kiss that leaves some heat behind when they part. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to see you tonight,” Christina asks before stealing another kiss. “Can i see you tonight?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby pulls back from a third kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The label’s paying for a party here tonight. You want to come?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Christina nods, leaning in to steal two more kisses before she’s inevitably pushed away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then I guess I will see you tonight.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby smiles to herself as she climbs out of the car, shaking her head a little at just how affected she is by Christina. She feels happy, giddy almost. If they hadn’t met about five minutes ago, and if she didn't’ know any better, she’d say she’s in love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye,” she says and shuts the door, giving her hips an extra something, knowing Christina’s eyes are glued to her ass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, she doesn't hear the car take off until she’s inside. She feels good despite having gotten next to no sleep. She feels light. She’s so lost in memories of her night with Christina, of the butterflies, and the mind-blowing sex and the easy-flowing conversation, that she doesn’t notice Leti appear from, clad in a blue bikini, bloody Mary in one hand, vape pen in the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, well, well!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice echoes in the impossibly high ceilings and Ruby nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, don't do that!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Ruby Baptiste do the walk of shame.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re in LA, baby,” Ruby sasses, turning towards the stairs, “Here it’s called the walk of fame.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hears Leti snort a laugh behind her, hears her follow her up the stairs, straight into her bedroom, where she drapes herself over Ruby’s bed, sipping on her bloody Mary while Ruby toes off her shoes and grabs a water bottle off a nearby table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who were you with? You seeing Darrell again? Isn’t he married?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby waits until she’s had a good amount of hydration before replying. “No, I am not seeing Darrell again. Yes, he is married - can you please get off my nice clean bed? You’re still wet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Holding her hands up, Leti slides right off the kind size bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, your majesty. So who was it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby sighs, pulling off her earrings, finally dropping her hands to her side as she turns to face her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was Christina Braithwhite, okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The photographer?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leti seems surprised, maybe even impressed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow. Okay. I don’t see it, but okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing for you to see, so don’t you worry about it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright! Jesus! You want to come downstairs and have a drink with us before that meeting? Sounds like you need it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need a nap,” Ruby answers, undressing quickly and then crawling under the covers. “I’ll see you before we go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leti leaves, grumbling something about Ruby getting bossy when she’s getting some. Ruby closes her eyes the moment she hears the door shut, but finds she can’t sleep and grabs her phone from where she’d left it to charge on the nightstand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiles at the unread text message waiting for her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I had a great time with you. Can’t wait to see you again tonight. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It truly is ridiculous that this...thing between them should feel so lived in already. As if they’ve been doing it forever and not a night and a half. Ruby burrows deeper into the covers with a smile on her face and has to force the cynical parts of herself to stop keeping time on it, to estimate just how much of it she has left before it all goes sour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, fed up with the inner conflict, she types back; </span>
  <em>
    <span>me too</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite waking up merely fifteen minutes before their meeting, Ruby is somehow still the one waiting for Leti in the driveway. Thankfully, she had a shower at Christina’s - and then some - so jumping into black jeans and a t- shirt she pairs with black boots and a cream wool coat for the sake of professionalism seems to be about the safest, quickest bet. She’s skimming through emails, dragging them into their corresponding tabs, in order of priority, when she notices the time on her screen and looks up, ready to yell Leti’s name again, only to be met with her running down the front steps. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, I’m here!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to be late! That doesn’t look good!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re three miles away from the restaurant, chill.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Climbing into the backseat beside Leti, Ruby sighs, “Do you know how long it takes to get anywhere in this city?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m making these guys a lot of money, okay?” Leti smugly replies, already sucked into her phone as the car starts. “They can wait five minutes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leti’s not wrong. About her making the label a lot of money, and about them being more than gracious about their late arrival. In fact, they seem happy to wait, as if it’s a privilege to be kept waiting by the great Leti Lewis, and Ruby would find it odd if it weren’t part of the gig–both gigs; the gig of being Leti’s sister and the gig of being her manager. She can do that, Leti, command a room like the best of them, and by the end of their lunch, they’ve committed to a four album deal and twice the money they had previously talked about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s good at negotiating, and she can sell a product better than anybody. She does the heavy lifting, but Leti sweetens the deal. Neither can argue they make a good team, and when they’re driving back to their rental, and it’s just the two of them, riding the high of squeezing money out of a bunch of old white men, they share a knowing look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby smiles, shaking her head, and says, “I hope you’re ready for that commitment. Four albums is a lot.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please. If Taylor Swift can churn out album after album on just barely creative lyrics and blonde girl aesthetic, I can do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Taylor Swift is a marketing genius.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I’ve got charm, and I have you, so she better watch herself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby chuckles, but the elation remains. She wonders if it’s too early to plan a vacation. She wonders what Christina is up to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>**************</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You going to that party tonight?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina nods through a bite of her steak while William sips a Long Island Iced Tea and regards her incredulously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You took the manager home, didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant, but finding she’s unable to fight the smirk on her face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her name is Ruby. Don’t call her the manager.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, man,” William laughs, leaning back. “We’re calling her by her name the morning after? Must be serious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” she replies with a shrug, pushing her sunglasses higher up her nose. “I like her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, good. It’s about time you keep someone around for more than a night or two.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air is crisp after the rain of the days prior, dark clouds looming overhead promising more of it soon, but it isn’t quite enough to deter anyone from enjoying their meals al fresco, and that includes Christina and William, who are partaking at their favorite lunch spot in Silver Lake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William takes another bite of his burger before raking in a deep breath and then barreling forward with what he’s been avoiding until now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got a call from an Order member yesterday. About your father.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina briefly halts her chewing, but resumes almost instantly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His health has taken a turn for worse. He’s been asking for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina snorts, “Wow, he must really be dying and delirious then.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knowing your -- complicated family history, I would never dare to give you advice, or dream of attempting to persuade you against your very set mind. But.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stabs her steak harder than necessary, briefly glancing up at William as he continues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I think you might want to see him before he’s gone. For yourself. For closure.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina raises the fork up but the bite doesn’t make it past her lips before she sets it back down, suddenly having lost her appetite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing to me here? I was having a nice day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The only satisfying closure I can get will be when I have a box filled with his ashes so I can scatter them in the nearest dump.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know he’s not being cremated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sinks back into her chair, watching a man walk her dog across the street, two women fussing over their baby, laughing when he coos nonsensical gibberish at them. Something tugs at her then, and briefly, she wonders if she’d be a good parent. The kind of parent her mother was. Maybe with the right partner -- she shakes her head at the fleeting thought of Ruby in the role. It’s far too soon for this. And far too early in the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Call me when he dies,” she finally says to William. “Okay? Happy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ecstatic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told Ruby,” she says after a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You told Ruby what?” William asks, completely oblivious, flirting from a distance with the waiter four tables away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told her...about me. And you. About The Order, about the bullshit gatekeeping, everything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William jerks his head in her direction. Now she has his full attention, and his tone becomes quiet and serious as he leans forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you’re joking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking her head slowly, Christina feels herself smiling again at the thought of Ruby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am not joking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Christina…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what moved me to do it, I don’t know what it is about her, but I just -- I needed to tell her. I needed her to know. I needed her to know me. I know it’s crazy, maybe even stupid, but,” she breathes a laugh. “I can't explain to you the connection I felt. I’ve never had this intense desire to make someone happy. I-- what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were in love.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, shut up. I just met her.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Crazier things have happened.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not to me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, then maybe you’re overdue.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s more relaxed now, looking at her like he knows a secret about her, and well, he knows all of her secrets so maybe he has the right to look at her like that, but still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to teach her everything I know,” she says, cutting through the scrutiny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s one way to stick to the patriarchy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And then some.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cheers to that,” William says, raising his glass. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*************</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ruby goes shopping after their lunch meeting, celebrating by splurging on a few designer pieces. She doesn’t normally buy herself lavish gifts. Not because she can’t afford it, but because she feels she hasn’t saved enough to feel secure enough to throw away thousands of dollars on things she doesn’t really need. Leti calls it her poor people syndrome. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, today she’s fighting her poor people syndrome, treating it with care and expensive shoes, and a couple of dresses, one of which she wears to the party later that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a metallic dress that accentuates her cleavage and torso, hugging her down past her hips and falling out in a soft flare from mid thigh, down to mid calf. She feels good, and happy, free of stress for once, and she gives herself one last look in the mirror, turning to appreciate the low cut in the back of the dress before leaving her bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The party’s in full swing already, some underground DJ Ruby doesn’t know is spinning; another gift from the label, and the bar they set up outside is packed already. Ruby grabs a flute of champagne off a tray and gets about two sips in before she spots Christina making an entrance, in more ways than one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby sees her from the back of the house, and it isn’t hard to spot her. She’s a tall moody vision in a powder blue suit and high heel boots that make her tower over nearly everyone and remind Ruby of some David Bowie-Veronica Lake hybrid. She watches Christina casually survey the room before that intense blue stare zeros in on her target, a crooked smirk forming upon her lips as she beelines toward her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby swallows hard at the way Christina regards her, like she’s going to devour her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Up close, Ruby catches a glimpse of black lace through the undone buttons of her crisp white shirt, and she can’t help but lick her lips at the thought of pressing them to the exposed skin later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Christina says in greeting, hand on Ruby’s hip as she leans in to kiss her cheek, lingering there to whisper, “You look beautiful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So do you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And this is the test, Ruby thinks, the morning-after test. This is the moment her feelings are confirmed, or her fears are. She isn’t sure which outcome makes her more nervous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like a drink?” Ruby asks, eyes trained on Christina’s lips before she reminds herself to stop, only to find that Christina is doing the same, and they share a laugh at the absurdity of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I’ll have a drink,” Christina says, but she doesn't go anywhere, makes no attempt to move, she just stares back at Ruby in that </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Ruby is breathless, warm all over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you like a tour?” She asks, taking Christina’s hand when she nods to lead her through the crowd, upstairs to her bedroom, where the music fades to a low rhythmic thud the moment they shut the door and Christina pulls Ruby against her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby goes for Christina’s button down as they kiss, making quick work of undoing the remaining buttons before pushing it and her jacket off at once, her hands palming her breasts the way she’s wanted to do since she saw her walk over to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina pulls Ruby closer at that, sighing against full lips as her hands roam over Ruby’s ass and she walks her backwards until her legs hit the bed. Ruby then reaches for Christina’s belt upon sitting, her lips leaving open mouthed kisses along her abdomen as she gets her pants undone, and she pulls back at the leather strap she finds there. She looks up at Christina, gaze darkened as she pushes her pants down the rest of the way and then palms the dildo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” Christina asks, already panting when Ruby nods her head yes and then pulls her over her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby keens when Christina hikes a leg up over her hip and then teases her slit gently open, swiping around her clit, coaxing the wetness there before slipping the digit swiftly inside her, Ruby’s hips jutting slightly upward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina’s clothes and shoes are somewhere on the floor, along with Ruby’s underwear but her dress is still partially on, hiked up over her hips with Christina cradled between her legs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s breathing is already labored, but her chest heaves even more as Christina fucks her with her finger, testing and teasing, working her up until she’s clinging to her and panting against her lips, “Fuck me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina fucks Ruby three times. Once with her strap-on, and the the second, immediately after she’s come, with her mouth, lapping at Ruby’s pussy until she’s sobbing above her, back arched and gripping the comforter, barely recovering before Christina’s added two fingers to her tongue and the noises Ruby makes almost gets Christina there right alongside her. She’s dripping by the time Ruby’s moaning her name, pulling her up, shaking still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here,” Ruby beckons breathily, holding onto the back of Christina’s head as she kisses her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip once in a while and smiling when Christina gasps or moans at that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s some maneuvering as they work Christina out of the leather harness and before the blonde can do much else, Ruby is kissing her way down her body, pausing to nip at the sharp angle of Christina’s hip bone before using her mouth to drive her completely insane. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina doesn’t last very long, not with Ruby’s beautiful lips wrapped around her clit, her mouth doing unmentionable things to her body that coil her desire ever so tightly before snapping it free with an orgasm that leaves her completely limp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Christina pants as Ruby kisses her way up to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Ruby’s kissing her again, and Christina is immediately searching for the zipper to her dress, and it’s like taking a first breath once she gets her hands on Ruby’s bare skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It must be an hour or so later, when Christina opens her eyes slowly to the sight of Ruby, draped over her and smiling up at her with her chin propped on Christina’s stomach. The party is still going strong downstairs, and the sound reverberates through the floor and walls still, but all Christina can focus on is the languid restfulness she feels, how content she is to be spent and spread out in Ruby’s bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby is in no rush to move any time soon either. She’s expected downstairs. She knows she needs to at least make some sort of appearance, but it wouldn’t take too much convincing to just forfeit the party completely in favor of staying up here with Christina for the rest of the night. The way those eyes drink her in, and those kiss-swollen lips look so inviting, it really wouldn’t take much convincing at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She licks her own lips and then pushes herself up, scooting higher up the bed so they’re at eye level when she brushes back a lock of previously curled blonde hair before lowering her head into a slow, tender kiss that leaves them both lightheaded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long are you in town?” Christina asks, breaking through the silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby blinks a few times, as if she’d forgotten she has to leave at some point. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another week or so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where to then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re in New York next week–Leti’s doing SNL. And then I have a bit of a break before we’re off to London to work on the new album for a while.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have an apartment in New York,” Christina says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby smiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do. If I should be in town at the same time as you, and you maybe needed a place to stay, you could...I don’t know, crash at my place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby regards her closely, eyes slitted as she considers the offer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s tempting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No but. I would love to stay with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” she replies, meeting Ruby in another kiss that promises to build up to something, except they’re rudely interrupted by Christina’s phone vibrating on the nightstand, text after text, until she’s forced to pull away with a groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, let me just turn that off.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just as well,” Ruby says, sitting up. “I really should get back down there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, come here!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina comes up empty as Ruby slips out of her grasp, laughing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anybody ever tell you you’re incorrigible?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Christina lies, sitting up against the headboard, too distracted by Ruby walking around in her underwear and nothing else, collecting her garments from off the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Check your phone,” Ruby tells her before disappearing into the bathroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly, Christina unlocks the screen and scrolls through the multiple ‘check your phone’ texts from William, finally finding the root of them all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Samuel’s dead. I’m in the car. Come find me out front.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina freezes as a chill overtakes her. There’s something lodged up in her chest. Not grief exactly, but a loss nonetheless. A strange concoction composed of all the confusing elements of the complex relationship she has with her father. For years, all she’s wanted was for him to die so she could finally break free from the imaginary tether around her neck, but now the realization that she’s truly alone is dawning on her–she hadn’t realized there would be loneliness along with her freedom. It only makes her angry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hands shake as she types a short reply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be right down. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby exits the bathroom to find Christina fully dressed, pulling her hair out from her jacket. Something doesn’t feel right. Christina smiles when she sees her, but something’s different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, everything okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah,” Christina nods, and then stops, looking up from securing her belt in place. “Actually, my father’s dead, so, I have to --”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby’s already at her side, clutching her hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Christina says. “He was…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Ruby says, giving her hand a squeeze. “It still hurts. Trust me, I know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Christina sighs, searching for an explanation but knowing, the moment she looks into Ruby’s eyes, that she doesn't have to explain for once, and that is a relief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I do anything? Drive you anywhere? Do you need a minute?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I--William is downstairs. I think I’ll coordinate with him. We’ll probably fly out tonight. Or tomorrow morning. Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Ruby says softly. “Let me get my shoes and jacket. I’ll drive you home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have my car.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll drive you anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby leads Christina downstairs, out the side door to avoid the more boisterous crowd. Out front, Ruby passes Leti, who doesn’t notice them walk by, and Montrose, who indeed notices and stares at them, at Christina rather, in a very particular way, but Ruby has no time to understand anything Montrose might be mad about on any given day, and so they find William parked out front, not far from where Christina’s car is located. He eyes their joint hands and Ruby thinks there’s a hint of a smile there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello again,” he greets her warmly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” He asks Christina. “I think we should fly out tonight. They’re already making plans for the estate. You need to be there.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course they are. Ruby, you really don’t have to drive me, I’m fine. You have all these people--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby has opened her mouth to protest, when Montrose appears behind them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all turn to look at him and he’s got that singularly Montrose frown as he approaches them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s she doing here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby looks from Montrose, who is pissed, to Christina and William, who are just as confused as she is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Montrose, go back inside, you’re drunk.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He points angrily at Christina, and without thinking Ruby steps protectively in front of her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s here with me. Is there a problem?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, there’s a fucking problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, whoah!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reflexively, Christina pulls Ruby back and steps in front of her, which in turn gets William to step between Christina and Montrose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re leaving, alright?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on out here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leti and Tic come around the hedge at the front gate with Sammy not far behind. And, great, just what this night needed, Ruby thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. Montrose freaking out for no reason.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You Braithwhite’s girl?” Montrose asks Christina.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tic steps forward and places a hand on Montrose’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad, what’s up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Montrose isn’t listening. He shrugs him off and looks pointedly at Christina when he asks again, “You Samuel Braithwhite’s girl? You Christina?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Christina replies curtly, then, spotting Sammy, nods in his direction. “Hey Sammy. Nice seeing you outside the bar.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you fucking talk to him,” Montrose says and both Sammy and Tic hold him back now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is wrong with you?” Sammy asks him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s,” he starts to explain before finding Tic instead, “that group I told you about? The ones looking for the book? Those racist fucks trying to keep magic to themselves? Her daddy’s at the top of it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Ruby cuts in, confused. “What? You know about--” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Montrose carries on, ignoring her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re cousins, you know? Way way back in the bloodline. Her fucked up family owned our ancestors. They stole from us. And if her daddy gets his way, you can kiss all of this goodbye, you understand me, son?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My father’s dead,” Christina announces, finally capturing everyone’s attention. “Look, I don’t know what my father was plotting, or if he’s jeopardized you in some way, but I promise you I’m neither involved or interested. I haven’t spoken to him in years, and I’ve just found out he’s dead, so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know magic, too?” Leti asks Christina, and Ruby can’t keep track of all the information that’s being revealed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She steps toward Leti and asks, “Do YOU?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” Leti starts bashfully. “Yeah. Tic worked up a spell, kind of an allure spell to help with the record label.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leti,” Tic warns and she shuts up instantly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby can’t believe what she’s hearing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With the record label...how long ago did he...how long have you been keeping this from me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not long. Only a couple of years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“YEARS?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to involve you! Tic thought it would be best not to tell you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby exhales a laugh, glaring at Tic, then at her sister. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You two are made for each other.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ruby--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Ruby pulls her hand back, standing beside Christina, “with your conniving ass.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sammy, who is looking ten kinds of wounded, is standing back, arms crossed over his chest. The look he’s giving Montrose tells Ruby he had no idea either, and she can’t be here. She can’t stand here, feeling foolish and angry. But then there’s Christina’s hand in hers, the grounding force keeping her steady. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to come with me?” She asks her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ruby nods, and gives Leti one last look as she says, “I’ll send for my things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ruby, you can’t go with her--you trust her after all this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After all what?” Ruby asks. “Because she’s been honest with me from the beginning. You’re the one who doesn't seem to have a problem lying to me. Good luck in New York.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>William walks behind them as they head for Christina’s car. Behind them, Leti and Tic argue, and Montrose chases after Sammy, while Ruby, headed to a dead man’s house with a woman she met two days ago as it starts to rain again, has never felt safer. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I found a plot? Maybe? Life has been crazy and I've just found some time to write. I'm really enjoying writing this, so I hope you are all liking it too :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>